Dogs have more personality than most
people I know, especially the dogs my relatives own. In the
summer, these dogs enjoy a communal lifestyle while all my
relatives are living on a lake at the four cottages known as the
Cove.

These
dogs are stupid. They don't share three brain cells between them.
Bailey and Maggie are sisters who have different owners. Both are
the shortest black labs you will ever see. They are impossible to
tell apart, so we combine their names and call them both either
Baggie or Maggot. It actually doesn't matter what we call them. If
we say any name in a calling fashion all the dogs come running,
their tongues drooping out the sides of their mouths and their
ears flapping. In the slow points of summer, we get our kicks
calling, "Come here, stupid," and watching them run to us with
eagerness and dumb loyalty.

Max, my uncle's dog, is the only male at
the Cove. He is supposedly a purebred golden retriever, but he
looks nothing like one. Everyone who sees him thinks he is a
Newfoundland, much to my uncle's chagrin. Max is really a sweet
dog, but this does not make up for the massive amount that he
slobbers. After staying at our house, I will find drool on the
doors, at the places where he rests his head on the table, on my
jeans, on my dog, and oozing down the walls after he shakes off.

Bitsy is a little curly-haired dog. Her
tail is constantly wagging. She will wag her tail at my feet until
I bend down and pet her; then she will move on to the next person.
Her owners have a baby named Sam. She will fiercely defend Sam
from everything, as Lassie would for Timmy. Her teeth will be
barred and her reflexes quick if any person upsets Sam.

She lost her leg in some unknown accident
and now moves quite agilely on three. Some teenage visitor
spotting the dog said, "Look, that dog only has three legs!" The
other, more intelligent teenager responded smacking his friend on
the back of the head, "No, its not, you dummy. There is no such
thing as a three-legged dog."

What personalities these dogs have! There
is a perfect combination of stupidity, loyalty,
and energy that dogs exhibit which makes us feel so very attached
to them all. We put up with the ruined gardens, little "surprises"
on the lawn, barking streaks, slobbering, and shaking off. We put
up with it all for the joy of seeing Maggie "drown" Bailey in a
beautifully executed maneuver for a tennis ball thrown into the
lake, or to see Max perform dog yoga asleep on his back with all
four legs up in the air, his eyes rolled back in his head, and his
tongue drooping out. Dogs given free roam provide more
entertainment than cable TV.

Jen Watkins is a student at Leland Public School. You can read more Leland students' work in the Beechnut Review